


The Miraculous Non-Existence of Fate

by talonyth



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fated meetings, Fluff, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, daichi might want to argue about that, or are they
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-02-07 05:11:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12834015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talonyth/pseuds/talonyth
Summary: Accidental meetings happen. If they happen a lot with the same person, it must be fate, right?Daichi doesn't believe in fate. Never did, never will. There has to be a rational explanation why he sees that guy in his red jersey everywhere lately. A very good explanation that is definitely not fate.





	1. Chapter 1

There are always those people you see regularly. People you don’t know. No names, no context. You just see them. In your favourite coffee shop, at the train station, at the crossroads kilometres away because it seems like this person and you are brought together by a twist of fate - or perhaps they simply follow you. Which is creepy, if you think about it too closely. 

But telling himself that that guy was truly ‘a twist of fate’ was too much for Daichi. He couldn’t see fate being an actual thing. Something palpable and understandable. Something that _existed_. He wasn’t going to rely on something as ominous as fate that ‘had its ways’. Inexplicable ways. What a surprise. 

“Look, there has to be a better explanation than yours,” he hummed around the rim of his mug and sighed. Oh, this coffee always hit the spot. Bitter but not tongue-achingly so. Just enough to satiate his need for _coffee_ , not milk with coffee, not sugar with coffee. 

“Yeah? Really? Okay, then, Sherlock,” Suga huffed and leant back, crossing his legs. “Because your explanation is so much better. Why in the world would this guy follow you around? Besides, he usually is already there when you cross his ways. If anyone follows him, it’s you!”

Daichi narrowed his eyes. This audacity. “Me? I don’t even know that guy’s name. Why in the world would I follow him? I have _plans_ , Suga. Plans I make two weeks in advance and that guy is suddenly just there. But sure, your theory is sound.”

“Don’t sass me,” Suga said. His tone was menacing but his gesture - pointed finger, overstretched and, frankly, somewhat theatrical - was what had Daichi sink against the backrest of his armchair. Suga was a force of nature. It was terrifying. “All I am trying to say is that you should, maybe, strike up a conversation with him. Ask him who he is. Maybe you _do_ know him. Obviously, the universe wants you to know him.”

“The universe wants nothing, Suga, it isn’t sentient.” Daichi sighed and stared into his mug. Perhaps he was a little too stubborn. But lately, dates haven’t been as amazing as people made them out to be. And he knew that this was what Suga was implying. Suga was always plotting. Daichi could see him, with hands folded, tapping his fingertips in the darkness as he devised a new plan to meddle with other people’s lives. 

“Oh, stop being such a spoilsport.” Suga smacked his palm against Daichi’s shoulder. It hurt. A lot. Daichi glared at him and rubbed his ache. “When did you lose your sense of humour? You were a blast in high school!”

“When did you start being so sneaky, actually. When I first met you, you were just as you looked. Soft and kind and gentle. High school poisoned you.” 

Suga locked his eyes on Daichi’s, staring into them so deeply that Daichi had to make sure his mind was still his own and not controlled by Suga now. He still didn’t believe in fate. 

Okay, his mind was safe. 

“Was it high school or was it meeting you and Asahi?” And that was his cue to get up and leave. Just like that. But not before he yelled, “Think about it!” from the entrance with all people in the coffee shop turning around to see what this was about. 

They would make their own assumptions. And Daichi would make his. 

Fate didn’t exist and Suga was a drama queen. That sounded about right. 

\---

Daichi squinted. No way this was happening again. It was probably just his bad night vision. Granted, he did wait in a train station with bright lights. Very bright. In fact, they hurt his eyes, that was how bright they were. 

Perhaps it was that. 

Or perhaps this guy he kept seeing was really always wearing red, like it would draw attention to him. Daichi could hear his internal Suga say ‘Well, he obviously succeeds!’ He sighed. This was tiring. 

The Fated Guy, as Suga liked to call him, had a very specific favourite colour, apparently, as well as a very particular - and horrible - sense of style. Starting from his hair, an odd mix between apparently bedhead and somehow intended, to his mixture of a red sports jersey with a black-green checkered dress shirt and a black pair of jeans. He wore sneakers to that. It looked like he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to look ready for business or ready for sports so he simply wore pieces of either. 

He was reading a book, nothing Daichi could decipher from where he was standing. Suga said to strike up a conversation but how would he do that? ‘Hey, so you and I keep meeting, is that funny or what?’ It wasn’t funny at all. And if the Fated Guy didn’t even notice that happening, then Daichi would look like the fool. 

Then it happened. And Daichi hadn’t been ready at all. 

The Fated Guy looked up from his book and let his gaze roam around. Daichi must have still been staring because the guy, he stared back, and he stared for a very long time. Daichi meant to tear his eyes away but the more he wanted to, the less his body complied. So Suga _did_ manage to manipulate him. 

His face felt hot. His ears were burning. At least Daichi wasn’t wearing embarrassing clothes. It didn’t mean the whole situation was less awful. How would he even explain this? Daydreaming. Right. That was a possibility. 

A blink, two blinks later, Daichi lifted his hand to wave. To wave back, actually. The Fated Guy had started first, a grin on his lips spreading and spreading and spreading wider. 

The train came. The guy left. Daichi stood there, hand still up without waving anymore. He’d missed his train. All because he’d been staring at the weird guy who kept being wherever he was too.

Less of an assumption, more of a fact: That person had a really stupid grin. 

It was kind of cute.


	2. Chapter 2

“I don’t know how you’d call that but I’d say it was a missed opportunity,” Suga said, cheeks filled with toast. He really needed to grow out of the habit of speaking with his mouth full. Not that Daichi would tell him again. He had reached his annual quota of criticism. In February. “I mean he was _smiling_ at you, Daichi. You should have-”

“Should have, could have, would have. I didn’t so get off my back.” Of course, his own toast was dry. Even butter couldn’t save it. He needed to invest in a new toaster. “As it stands, I am going to meet him again anyway. If we believe your ‘fate’ theory, then it will happen.”

“Aha!” And there went the orange juice. Slosh, right over the damn rim of his damn glass. Suga had to stop slamming things on his table when he was overly excited. Last time, he almost smashed the glass with his plate. “So you believe in it after all!”

“No. I was just saying, you should be more confident in your own theory or no one is going to believe it.”

Suga clicked his tongue. “Liar.”

The quiet that followed felt menacing. Daichi knew Suga well enough to see the cogs in his head working as he chewed on his second toast, eyes narrowed.

“You know, have you ever seriously considered that, maybe, this is a twist of fate? How likely is it for the same person to be at every place where you are as well? You meet people once or twice every now and then but this is just excessive.”

“We had the topic. You know my opinion. It is what it is.”

Suga grinned. “Why don’t you test fate then?”

Daichi didn’t like where this was going in the slightest. Suga’s expression was the kind he wore when he devised plans with malicious intent. Or when he played chess. Suga was terrible at chess but he was great at bluffing. “What do you mean?”

He knew he would regret asking. Suga’s grin widened. Alarmingly so. “Hear me out.”

\---

Daichi wished he wouldn’t have heard out what Suga had to say. He should have known better than that. For all his soft smiles and kind words and uplifting nature, Suga was in equal parts the devil himself. The ruler of Hell. He was standing in front of the restaurant and he felt like an utter fool.

Weren’t blind dates movie material? Stuff he only ever witnessed in romance flicks and one novel too many about love and fate. There was a reason why Daichi chose not to believe in it.

But he had agreed to it and a poor soul had actually answered to Suga’s incredibly bad jokes. Daichi felt appalled when he read them and had to rip the laptop from Suga’s cold hands. He wasn’t dead, they were just always cold. Like his very core. Damn that Suga.

All he knew was that he was supposed to meet the person at a table with a red flower on it. It sounded reasonable. And Daichi was not going to be as nice as to sit through the whole ordeal if he didn’t enjoy it. It worked the last two times but not this time. He had learnt his lessons.

He sucked one more breath in, exhaled and relaxed. Maybe it would be fun. At least he could definitely prove Suga wrong. There was no way it was the Fated Guy.

What were the odds, really?

Daichi froze in the very doorframe. He registered the waitress speaking to him but he couldn’t process her words. Nothing she said entered his ears properly. Time stopped. His heart hammered.

There was only one table with a red flower. And ugly, checkered shirt in black and red hanging off of broad shoulders and a hairdo so awful that Daichi couldn’t believe the audacity to see someone at a blind date like that.

No. He wasn’t particularly upset about the outfit. Objectively speaking, it almost looked good. Almost. Even the hair could pass as… something, at the very least. Some could even call it cool.

If only those weren’t parts of a person Daichi never caught the name of. Never even bothered asking. Never even spoke to, in the first place, and yet he knew the frame by heart, from the tip of his ridiculous bed hair to the soles of his sneakers.

Daichi gulped.

Perhaps fate existed, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well that was short
> 
> i really don't know what i'm doing and neither does daichi

**Author's Note:**

> i wish i knew what i was doing but i guess it'll be a surprise for everyone involved like this, even myself


End file.
